The Cafe and Role Play
by theprofoundestofbonds
Summary: This is the prompt I was given: BLOGGER AU Cas and Dean RP on their blogs with each other all the time and are sitting across a coffee shop from each other without ever knowing until one day…
1. Chapter 1

Cas sits down at his usual table, the one right next to the big window shining into the little café. It's also the only table with an outlet next to it. That, paired with the sun gleaming in, it couldn't be a more perfect spot. He plugs in the cord to his laptop as the waitress walks over to him, sets a sup down and pours him his usual medium roast coffee blend. "Thank you, Anna." He says, giving her a bright smile.

She blushes and flips her beautiful red hair over her shoulder. "Can I get you anything else, Castiel?"

Cas shakes his head and looks away, down at the computer because it has been booted up and logged onto. He clicks the icon for Google chrome and feels his heart beat a little faster, hoping Impala356 is online. He always is, always perfectly on time, but Cas still feels a sort of anxious excitement whenever he logs on, fearing the day Impala356 decides to quit their little game.

Anna had walked away, knowing as soon as he gets onto his computer he'd be too focused on whatever the hell it is he does to talk to her. She walks back behind the counter, takes a few more orders, and then picks up the fresh pot of coffee. She takes it past Cas, all the way to the far side of the café, past the entrance door and past a few rows of tables. She sets it down on Dean's table, pours the dark roast into the cup and leaves without a single thank you or reply from him.

He's on his computer too and she sighs as she walks back toward the front, past Castiel who is typing furiously. She remembers the first day he came in, laptop in arm. She had thought, maybe he's a writer. But, the few times she's gotten a peak at the screen it's been some website she'd never seen before. It was like Microsoft word, but there were highlights and when Cas leaned back to stretch, she'd she the words continue to flow from the yellow highlight. She assumed it was some kind of role play, like he was writing with another person online.

Castiel takes a sip of his coffee as Anna walks past him, keeps his eyes on the screen as he watches impala356 continue the story. It's strange, Castiel thinks, that is feels as if he knows the man on the other side of the computer just by his writing.

He feels as if he's known him forever, but they've only been role playing for a few months. He feels as if he knows the man, but he's only ever spoken to say _hey, ready to rp?_

Dean stops after the end quotation, picking up his coffee. Its cold now, but he doesn't care he still needs his caffeine fix. He stayed up all night last night, worrying about this damn story. Or, more than that, worrying about the man on the other end.

Dean doesn't even remember how it started, but suddenly he's role playing Star Trek with a man he's never met, in a little café he only ever comes to for this purpose: to write a story with a man he's never met.

He runs a hand down his face, lets out a small moan. He has to go to work in a few hours, should have slept in late with all this time off. Instead, he got himself up early to write a damn role play story. Dean shakes his head, lets the doubt go when he sees the writing stop again.

He leans forward and start typing, remembering how much he loves this even if he is a damn grown man. He can still enjoy writing a story. But, the doubt has settled into his stomach and refuses to leave even as he gets a great idea and begins writing it hurriedly.

Anna walks over to Dean's table twenty minutes after she gave him the coffee, setting down his usual breakfast. They had argued over that one, when Dean told her he didn't want to order breakfast and she had been forced to tell him he'd have to leave if he didn't order anything but coffee. So, they'd settled on bacon and toast twenty minutes after she gives him his coffee.

Dean usually sits on the side opposite her, so that the computer is hidden, but today the sun from the window behind him must have been putting a glare on the screen because he has shifted over a few inches. Curious, Anna walks a little closer to him as she sets down the plate, leaning over as she tries to catch a glimpse. Dean looks up at her, though, so she hurriedly walks back a few inches. "Do you want anything else?" She asks, flashing him a nervous smile.

He shift the laptop a bit and shakes his head. "No, I'm fine. Thank you."

She nods, surprised by not only the way he hides the laptop but also by the thank you. "Okay, well, just um holler if you think of something." She walks backward a bit, waiting for him to say anything but he has returned his attention back to the screen, forgotten her. She lets out a long breath, fixes her apron, and turns back to the other customers waiting for their order.

The next few hours fly by and suddenly Dean's phone buzzes to let him know its time for work. He sighs, types into the chat box:

_I have to go to work, continue later?_

He taps his fingers on the table, staring at the screen until it bleeps and an reply is sent:

_Yes. Goodbye._

Dean smiles for whatever reason and shut off his laptop. The battery is almost dead anyways, so they'd have to call it quits with or without the interruption of the job. He knows there's an outlet somewhere in the shop but it's across the room and somehow that guy in the trench coat always gets to it first.

Dean stuffs his laptop into his bag, lays some bills on the table and walks out of the shop. He eyes the man in the corner, still typing on his laptop. Dean can admire the guy, he looks pretty good hunched over a laptop with his hair messy like he didn't take the time to pat it down this morning. His constant wearing of a trench coat is kind of weird, but the guy is, well, hot. Dean can admire that, from afar.

He shakes his head, looks away and walks out into the cold brisk air of early morning. He feels that nervousness trickling back into his stomach, thinking about the story and about his admiring some man in a coffee shop.

He doesn't know why it freaks him out so much, thinking men are hot. Probably because of that time in high school- He stops that train of thought right there, refusing to remember that night. It was just one damn time.

He climbs into his baby, throws his bag onto the passenger seat. Work is going to be a killer today, he can feel his neck already aching from the writing this morning. Now he has to go in, do some paperwork for the building. The auto shop's structure is apparently 'not to code' so he's got to deal with about a hundred forms and regulations and it all makes him want to hit something but he can't really do anything but get it over with. If he lost the shop, his dad would kill him.

John had been getting sick, old age stuff, and had to turn the shop over to Dean. Dean suspects he had rather given it to Sammy, but the kid was going to law school in a few months. So, dad had to trust Dean with his shop, his life. And Dean wasn't going to lose it only a year after getting the responsibility of it.

Dean gets to the shop, signs a waver Ash hands him, then walks to his office. He throws his bag onto the floor, sits down at his desk and open the first folder of the goddamn forms.

The day drags on as he fills everything out, makes a few calls, and answers a few frantic questions from the new employee, Kevin. Usually he would mind Kevin being so consistent with his questions but Dean could use any distractions he could get from all this crap on his desk.

Dusk s settling by the time Dean gets everything done. After all the interruptions, it's a wonder he finished at all. But, as he closes the last folder, he can sit back in his chair and relax. That is, until another interruption comes through his office door. "Hey, Dean, it's the end of my shift but theres a guy out there says he needs his car looked at." Ash says, leaning against the archway of the door.

Dean sighs. "Alright, you can go home. Tell the guy I'll be out in a minute."

Ash nods and walks back out. Dean settles into his chair, runs his hands over his face and just sits there for a beat. Then, he gets up and walks out of his office, exhausted and just wanting a damn good night's sleep.

He stops in his tracks when he sees the man from the café, sitting patiently in their crapy 'waiting room' chairs. "Oh, hey," He says, surprised. Then, remembering that he's never actually met the man he says, "Uh, sorry to keep you waiting."

The man stands up, looks at Dean with kind blue eyes. "It's alright. You look like you've had a tiring day."

Dean laughs. "Yeah, just some stupid paperwork. What seems to be the problem?" Dean says, gesturing to the grey Volvo.

Castiel looks at it and frowns. "I think she said it just needs an oil change."

_She. _Dean thinks, feeling disappointment settle in his chest. "Oh, right. So it's not yours?"

He shakes his head. "No, sorry, my sister was working late and asked if I could take it in. It won't take long right?"

Dean shakes his head. _Sister. _"No, it shouldn't." He walks over to the car, checking the oil. "So, where does your sister work?"

Surprisingly, Cas doesn't sit down, instead walking over to the car and leaning up against it as Dean works. "She's history teacher at the middle school."

"Oh, that's awesome. I don't really like history, but I bet she's a great teacher." He says, undoing the cap.

"She is. I haven't really seen her in action but she puts a lot of work into planning lessons and trying to get her students to understand. We, uh, share an apartment and she bring a lot of her projects home to work on."

Dean nods, too engrossed in the process of oil changing to respond. Fifteen minutes later, he puts back on the cap and stands up, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Well, that's it. Just wait a few seconds before driving it off the ramp."

The man nods. "Thank you for doing it so quickly. How much is the bill?"

Dean gestures to his office. "Let me go write it up." He starts walking back to his office and then stops. "Uh, can I get your name?"

The man turns. "Yeah, its Cas, uh, Castiel."

Dean nods. "Mmm, that's an interesting name."

Cas blushes and looks down. "Yeah, its um, the name of an angel."

Dean laughs, surprising Cas. "Wow, that's awesome. My names Dean, by the way."

Cas nods and flashed Dean a kind smile, his eyes lighting up with it. "Nice to meet you, Dean."

Dean nods, transfixed by the brightness of Cas's smile. Then, he shakes his head and continues back to his office, cursing himself under his breath for being so awkward. He fills out the bill, rips it off the stack and walks it back out to Cas. He signs, hands Dean the money in cash and drives the Volvo out of the shop. Dean watches him go, wondering if he'll be at the café tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

The café is closed two mornings after the night Dean changed the oil in Cas's sister's Volvo. He hadn't been able to role play the day before because Sammy had called early yesterday morning, asking Dean to cover for him with dad because he wasn't going to be home for thanksgiving.

Dean had then fallen back asleep and not woken up until Ash called him, telling him he was two hours late for work. So, Dean had left his laptop home and felt guilty all day for not letting the blogger know he wouldn't be on.

Today, he woke up earlier than usual so that he would definitely make it to the café in time to role play. But, then he came to find the café closed. Thanksgiving is tomorrow, why the hell do they have to close it today?

Dean had walked all the way up the door, just to be sure, and was now walking back to the impala when Castiel pulled into the parking lot. Dean felt his stomach fill with nerves and he tried to walk fast toward his car. Cas climbed out and called, "Hey Dean" so loud that Dean had no choice but to stop, turn back, and walk toward the guy. Cas shut the door of his car and walked toward Dea. They meet right in front of the café window cas likes to look out of.

"Hey, Castiel. Um, the café is closed. I guess for thanksgiving tomorrow or something."

Cas glances at the door. "Oh, that's too bad. Hey, do you want to come over to the Starbucks down the street?" He asks on impulse. He doesn't even consider the fact that he won't be able to talk to impala356 if he goes out with Dean.

Dean hesitates. "Um, I was actually going to get some emails answered on uh my laptop."

Cas nods. "Oh, so that's why your always on your computer when you come here."

Dean tries not to look guilty at lying. "Yeah." He says lamely.

"You work really hard. Are you the manager of the auto shop?"

Dean nods. "Well, actually, my dad handed over the lease to me so I own it." He stuffs his hands in his pockets, the cold practically numbing his fingers. "Hey, um, you know what I can put off the emails for an hour or two."

Cas's face lights up in that way of his and Dean wishes he could make Cas smile all the time, constantly, just to see that light in his eyes. "Great. Do you want to walk? I love this time of year, the weather is great."

Well Dean actually feels like he's going to freeze his ass of but he nods anyways, enjoying the idea of spending the time walking with Cas.

The first few minutes they walk silently but it's the comfortable kind of silence that Cas appreciated. Dean, though, keeps trying to think of something to day but he just can't think of anything that doesn't make him sound like an idiot. So he just keeps opening his mouth and then closing it again, unsure.

Finally, Cas breaks the silence, "So Dean do you have any siblings?"

Dean nods, grateful for the question. He could talk about Sammy all day. "Yeah I have a younger brother, Sam. He's at Stanford, law school."

Cas nods. "Wow, that's impressive. I bet your parents are proud."

Dean nods, the pain in his chest at the mention of his parent's after all these years. "Yeah it took my dad a while, but he's proud of Sammy. And, uh, my mom would have been too."

Cas stops, looks at Dean's face. Dean glances away, not wanting to see the look of pity on Cas's face. Couldn't they have at least gotten through coffee before this talk? A hand suddenly touches his shoulder and he glances up to see Cas looking at him with those kind eyes again, no pity in them at all. "I'm sorry for you loss, Dean. I am sure she would have been very proud of Sam, and you too."

Dean scoffs. "Yeah, proud of me and my auto shop." He jokes, but the idea of his mom being proud of him does keep him awake sometimes. He often wonders if she would, in fact, be proud.

Cas's hand moves to cup his cheek and the touch surprises Dean almost as much as what he says, "No, proud of the man you are."

Dean turns away. "You don't even know me, Cas. But thanks, I mean. It's nice of you to say that." He looks at the ground and starts walking again, hoping Cas will follow. When he sees the bottom of Cas's trench coat out of the corner of his eye, he feels a little bit better. "So, uh, what do you do?"

Cas pauses for a moment, making Dean shove his hand in his jacket pocket again, just out of nerves this time. Then, finally, "I guess I am a writer."

"You guess?" Dean asks, glancing at Cas who is looking down the street with a far off look on his face.

"Well I was raised in an orphanage with my older sister and the only thing we ever planned for was getting out of there, not what we would do once we did. My sister decided she liked taking care of me and some of the other kids so she became a teacher. I don't know why she chose history, I guess she just liked that subject the best. Anyway, that's what she chose to do when she got us both out of there. I was just a punk kid in high school still, causing trouble and not really caring where I ended up. I started writing poetry in all the classes I didn't care about and, well, I guess I was pretty good because some of them have been published in magazines and newspapers." He shrugs, still looking off down the road a ways. "When I got out of high school- I still don't know how I graduated- my sister made me take some community college classes in creative writing."

Dean has just been staring at Cas and when he stops speaking, glances at Dean, he catches the staring. "What?" Cas asks.

Dean shakes his head. "I just, um, sorry about…" Dean doesn't even know how to give him condolences. Cas's tone the entire time wasn't self-pitying, wasn't even sad. He talks in this far off tone as if the story doesn't bother him at all.

Cas smiles at Dean, sadly and without that light Dean loves to see in his eyes. "I understand. But, that was my life. It's not really something to be sorry for, it just…is."

Dean nods and looks away. "Wow, I wonder if we can get to Starbucks before bringing up any more intense subjects." He laughs, but really does wish they could be comfortably flirting instead of deeply discussing their pasts.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean wakes up the morning after his coffee with Castiel and feels a slw smile spread across his face. Once they reached starbucks and ordered their two plain coffees, they had sat outside and chatted comfortably about their siblings. Dean got to brag about Sammy half the time, and the other half he listened to Cas's deep calming voice as he told Dean about his sister.

Her name is Naomi and she's always pushed Cas to do his best, paid for all his classes at the community college. He talked fondly of her, though Dean could tell there was something off about their relationship the way he let his story drop off when he started talking about the past again.

They walked back, discussing the weather and thanksgiving, talking about their plans. Dean would go over to his dad's house and they'd have a small steak dinner as they watched the game. Cas would be cooking a big meal with his sister, because Naomi always through a small party on holidays. Apparently she had a lot of friends. Dean got the feeling that Cas never invited his own over but he didn't ask.

Dean had let Cas go when they were passing the grocery story, he wanted to pick up the steaks and beer for tomorrow right then so he wouldn't have to go out again later. Cas had been kind, smiled at Dean and told him he'd see him around.

Dean almost wishes he would have asked for his number, but he wasn't sure what team he himself played for, let alone whether Cas was gay. So, he let the weird guy in a trench coat go and walked into the store, wishing he wasn't so confused about everything.

Now, though, he is smiling because he hadn't crewed up too much yesterday and today he was going to spend the day with his dad. Holidays are always the best; his dad is always in a great mood and doesn't throw any of his disapproving comments in.

Dean gets up, showers, and when he comes out sees his phone lit up with five missed calls. One if from his dad and he calls that back first, worried that something is wrong. His dad rarely calls him. On the third ring, his dad picks up. "Hey Dean."

"Everything okay, dad?"

"Yeah, but listen. Let's forget about thanksgiving tonight. Sammy can't come and I'm not really feeling up for it."

Dean's heart sinks. He should have expected this. "Yeah sure dad, I understand."

"Great, talk to you later. Oh, and by the way I heard you were late for work the other day. Don't let that happen again, son."

"Yessir." He says and the line goes dead. He sits down heavily on the bed and looks at his phone. The other calls are from an unknown number. He calls it back. "Hello?"

"Um, you called my phone?"

"Oh, Dean! Hey, its Cas, Uh Castiel."

Dean smiles, the other phone call easily forgotten by the sound of Cas's voice. "Hey Cas."

"I was wondering, um, what time do you go over to your dad's house. I though, I don't know, maybe you'd want to stop by my sister's party for an hour or two?"

"Actually- wait, how did you get this number?"

Dean can hear the shyness in Cas's voice, "Oh, um I looked up your auto shop's information."

Dean smiles and picks at the loose string on his comforter. "Oh, that makes since. But, um, yeah actually my dad cancelled. He isn't feeling good. So, I'd love to come. Do I need to bring anything?"

"No, just wear something nice. My sister can be…judgy at times. She's just such a perfectionist."

Dean promises he will and Cas tells him he'll pick him up so Dean doesn't have to try to figure out where it is. They hang up after a beat of awkward silence and Dean is smiling like an idiot at the end of it.

He lays out his best suit and then goes into the kitchen to fix himself some coffee. As he drinks it, he thinks about the blogger and pulls his laptop open from where it sits on the table. He hasn't been on for days now.

Logged on, he opens up the role play website and sees that the blogger is online. He types:

Sorry I haven't been on. Do you have time now?

The reply comes only seconds later:

It's alright; I haven't been on recently either. And yes, I do.

They write the story for thirty minutes, but it reaches a sudden dead point and neither know what to do with it. So, Dean goes to the chat box:

Do you maybe want to start a new story?

The reply come after a minute or two:

Yes but not right now. I have a party to go to.

Dean sends a quick okay talk to you later and then logs off. Somehow, writing with the blogger just hasn't been the same. He just keeps thinking about Cas.

He sighs and walks back into his bedroom, puts on his suit and then proceeds to stare at himself in the mirror, contemplating changing into a different. A knock sounds at the door, interrupting his doubt so that he just decides to stick with this one and hope the night goes well.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean walks into the coffee shop the morning after the thanksgiving party and walks straight over to his usual table, pulling out his laptop. He tries to avoid looking over at the spot Cas sits but as his laptop is taking forever to boot up, he find his eyes drawn to the spot.

Cas just so happens to be sneaking a glance at Dean the exact same moment and their eyes lock for an awkward moment before Dean forces himself to look away. Thoughts of last night cloud his mind as he logs onto his computer, clicks on Google chrome; the usual.

Is no that they had a bad time last night, they had a great time. That, Dean thinks, is what makes it so weird. How do they go back to business as usual after a night like that? Dean feels a blush creeping up his neck as he remembers sitting next to Cas, feeling his foot bump Dean's and then his leg just pressed up against Dean, stayed like that the rest of the meal. Dean could hardly focus on chewing let alone speaking. Cas's sister had kept asking him questions and he would try his best to respond. The worst moment- or best, depending on how you look at it- was when Cas had put a hand on Dean's knee, suggestively. Dean had nearly choked and all the while, Cas was sitting next to him, a calm and easy smile on his face as if he knew nothing of what was going on under that table.

After the meal, Cas took Dean outside on the small balcony and they just leaned against the rail, pressed against each other as they stared out at the quiet street. Cas had nudged Dean a while later and told him he'd drive him home. The drive and the walking up to his house was silent, neither of them sure how far they would take the night.

Dean was too much of a chicken to do any more than stand there and look dumb while Cas smiled and said he'd see Dean around. He left then and Dean went inside to curse loudly at himself for not jumping Cas's bones right then and there.

Now, in the coffee shop, Dean feels as if his face is burning from the blush that refuses to leave his face. He catches movement in his peripheral vision and looks up just as Cas sits down across from him. He hold up his hands in surrender when he sees the startled look on dean's face. "I promise I won't distract you from your emails. I just want to sit with you, if that's alright."

Dean nods, at a loss of words as Cas sits down, takes out his laptop, and start typing. He doesn't know what to do, wonders if he should say something but bites his tongue for fear of saying anything stupid.

The two men sit like that, not saying anything as they type away on their computers, no idea that they are both currently writing a story together. Dean gets excited with an idea so he sits up straighter and then leans down, practically wiggling with excitement. Still, though, Cas doesn't notice. He is too engrossed in reading what impala356 is writing, too anxious to reply.

Hours pass and neither man says a word to each other, typing all of what they'd say out onto the fic. Truthfully, they are both writing the story with each other on their minds but neither man catches the obvious connection between the blogger on the other side of the story and the man sitting right across from them.

Dean's phone buzzes and he groans. He finishes up his last line and then sends:

_Have to get to work._

Dean looks up just as Cas receives the message and sees Cas sigh and then type. When Dean glances back down he sees the reply:

_Alright. Goodbye._

Dean glances back up at Cas, disbelief coloring his face. "Cas-"

Castiel glances up to see Dean staring at him with this weird look of confusion. "What?"

"Were you just….were you just writing a story?"

Cas frowns, then raises his eyebrows as he catches up to Dean's train of thought. "Wait, are you-"

Dean interrupts, "Impala356"

Cas's mouth falls open and he stares at Dean with those huge blue eyes of his. "Oh my god."

Dean suddenly laughs, uncontrollably and Cas soon joins in. They look from each other to the laptops and then laugh again, in disbelief. "All this time-"

Cas smiles, calming his laughter. "All this time, we were writing together. Oh my god."

Dean laughs again and stands, "I have to get to work."

Cas nods. "I know." He says, laughing again. "You told me."

They smile at each other, still slightly shocked, and then Dean says again that he has to go and finally starts packing up his laptop. When he's done, he throws enough money for both of their breakfasts on the table and turns, right into Cas.

Cas slides his hands around Dean's neck and pulls him toward him, kissing him with a surprising amount of passion. It takes Dean a moment but then he has dropped his bag and his gripping at Castiel's waist and pulling him against his body.

When they pull away, both men are breathing heavily and their eyes are clouded with desire. "I really do have to go to work."

Cas nods, "I know."

Dean looks down at Cas's lips, then back up to his face. "Screw it. Come home with me." Dean growls, planting another fierce kiss on Cas's lips.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean taps his thumb impatiently against the steering wheel, willing the light to turn green. He lets out a long and suffering moan when Cas's hand grasps his knee, slides up his thigh. "Goddamit, Cas. Stop." He says through gritted teeth. The light turns green and he presses so firmly on the peddle Cas's upper body is thrust forward. He laughs, a deep and somewhat seductive-ah, who is Dean kidding. His laugh is fucking _seductive. _"Dammit." He curses again, feeling hard just at a damn laugh, goddamit.

"Dean, drive faster." He purrs, then in a lowered tone, "I want to _fuck_ you."

Dean gulps speeds up. His apartment is only a few miles away but he is almost driven mad by the distance. Or, maybe it's because Cas has returned his hand to the spot on Dean's thigh. Either way, he feels maddened.

Dean screeches into the parking lot, swerves into his parking spot and is out of the car seconds after it is turned off. Cas comes out almost as quickly, practically jogging around the car to grab Dean and pull him into a deep and heated kiss. Dean grabs at his ass, pulling him up and closer. God, just let us be closer.

Cas pushes Dean back, his eyes clouded with desire. "Where is your place?" He asks.

Dean takes a deep breath, wills the tent forming at his croch to settle, and takes Cas's hand. He leads him up the stair two flights and to room 356. Cas glances at the number and raises his eyebrows at Dean. "Your username was your car and your apartment room number?"

Dean shrugs, somehow not embarrassed. The look in Cas's eyes isn't insulting, maybe that why. "The first two things I ever had that were mine, just mine." He shrugs again, not sure how to explain this to Cas.

He smiles, though, easing Dean's mind again. "I still haven't found that myself. My sister owns it all."

Dean speaks without thought, the words just flowing straight off his tongue, "I'll be yours. Just yours." He whispers, leaning down to kiss Cas. This time it is soft, sweet. None of the earlier lust, just…love.

Cas pulls back and Dean feels his face flush at the look of shock on Cas's face. He almost take it back, fearing he's freaked Cas out somehow. But, then Cas says, "And I'll be your third thing." He smiles, the shock completely erased as his features light up in that way Dean loves.

They stand there for a few moments, just smiling at each other like dumb fools until Dean finally, fumbling for the keys in his nervousness, unlocks the door. He walks in, holds the door open for Cas, and then closes it, taking a deep breath before turning around. When he does, he sees Cas bending over at the bookshelf, reading the spines of the few books Dean has. "I'm impressed." He murmurs, stepping over to read the ones on the second shelf.

Dean lets out a weak laugh, runs his hand through his hair. "Oh, I don't read much. Just a few books that Sammy thought I'd like."

Cas nods, still reading.

"Uh, hey, do you want something to drink?"

He shakes his head, still reading.

Dean stuffs his hands in his pockets nervously. "What about some food? I mean we just ate but…" He lets the statement die off, feeling stupid.

A few moments later, Cas finally straightens up and turns to Dean. "I want to show you something I wrote." He says, matter-of-factly.

Dean nods, slowly. "Okay."

Cas nods back, as if finalizing a deal.

"Like, now or?" Dean asks, trying to make sense of the strange look on Cas's face.

He shakes his head. "No, um." He looks down, nervously and Dean is surprised, wondering what the hell he has to be nervous about. Cas isn't looking at him when he explains, in a rushed voice, "I don't usually show people my writing. Naomi sorta forced me to publish those poems and even then I wasn't really showing anyone them, they were just out there. I don't know, I'm just self-conscious about it. And I know we've written stories before but-"

Dean had stepped forward, taken Cas's nervous hands in his and now interrupts with, "I understand. You want to show _me _what you've written. You want to admit you are proud of a piece of your work and trust me to read it in front of you."

Csa nods, shakily. "I know it dumb-"

Dean shakes his head and leans down, kissing Cas sweetly and tenderly. When he pulls back he smiles. "I still really _want _you but first I want to show you something."

Cas takes a deep breath and then nods. "I guess I can wait." He jokes, winking. _Winking. _And dammit if that doesn't look hot.

Dean keeps it in his pants, though, as he release only one of Cas's hands and then pulls him toward his bedroom. He lets go and Cas takes off his trench coat as Dean walks opens his closet. He digs around the small space until he finds what he's looking for. He turns back around, holding it out.

Cas gasps. In Dean's hands is a compound bow. "This is my hobby, aside from writing stories with you."

Cas stares at it a minute and then smiles up at Dean. "Wow, so your some sexy warrior along with a talented writer."

Dean blushes and looks away shyly. "I don't, uh, kill anything with it. I just use it for…I don't know. It's just something I've been doing for a while." He shrugs.

Cas steps forward and touches a hand to Dean's face. "I still think it's hot, however you use it."

Dean laughs and suddenly he is dropping the bow to the floor, and they are kissing. Dean grips Cas's waist and pulls him against himself, moving his lips how Cas's jaw, neck, throat. He nips at Cas's collar bone, or the small bit he can taste of it anyway. The collar of his shirt is in the way. Dean makes a sound in the back of his throat and slides the hands at Cas's waist up to the hem of his shirt. He pulls the shirt up, slowly, his lips back on Cas's lips. He has to pull away to get the shirt off but then they are back at it, kissing hungrily as they fall onto the bed.


End file.
